The Light In The Darkness
by Roselina4389
Summary: When Dumbledore sees the welts upon Harry Potter, he removes him from his relative's care at once. His guardian for the summer is none other than Severus Snape. It is an unhappy arrangement-Snape is snarky and snide, making Harry do chores and never keeping him happy. But Harry realises that Snape is not as he seems. In fact, he is just what Harry had needed all along-a support. CP
1. The Awful Arrangement

**A/N:- **Hey, you've stumbled upon my Harry Potter story-The Light in the Darkness. I'm really, really nervous about this. When you've done reading, any criticism or praise is appreciated in the reviews. This starts after Harry's first year at Hogwarts. He is therefore, eleven. I hope you enjoy it. If it's kind of speedy, please excuse my mediocre writing. Whew. Finally finished with re-reading and checking this :P

This story will contain corporal punishment in the form of spanking. If you don't like that, now is a good time to leave!

**Warning for the chapter: **Implied child abuse.

**DISCLAIMER:- **Don't own Harry Potter. If I did, I'd probably not be on this site.

* * *

**The Light In The Darkness**

**One**

Pain. The world was full of pain...It had been less than a week when Harry had come back to the Dursleys for the summer, fresh from an exciting year at Hogwarts. He had fought Voldemort, the killer of his parents, at the back of Quirrel's head. He had done magic. He had played Quidditch and had won Gryffindor the House cup. It had been the best time Harry had ever had in his life-

But now that he was back for the summer, things were looking bleak. His uncle and aunt had always been short and harsh with him, but after he had dared to go to Hogwarts even when they had wanted to 'squash the magic out of him'...well, suffice to say they were acting even worse. Every small thing he did (Which ranged from accidentally breaking a cup when Dudley tripped him to missing a corner while sweeping) got him into trouble. Uncle Vernon would grab him by the collar, make him endure a vicious and loud lecture about his uselessness and freakishness and then whip him with his belt.

At first, Harry's strategy had been to avoid everyone. But that hadn't worked. Aunt Petunia would drag him out of his room by the ear and tell him to sweep this and dust that. Harry's whole back and lower thighs were filled with welts already and he could hardly lie down without wincing in pain. Even when he bent down to sweep up a bit of dirt or pull out a weed, he would hiss out in distress.

He had just received a punishment for mouthing off and it hurt like hell. Harry tried to find comfort on his bed, but there was none. Tears stung in his eyes. He didn't understand why these things happened to him.

He had been trying to rest for the better part of two hours and he knew that he would have to get up and prepare the tea any minute now.

And just as he thought this, there was a knock at the door.

Harry groaned. He shifted to a sitting position, rubbing his sore arms, and shuffled to the door. He opened it with bleary eyes.

"It's about time you woke up you lazy brat-go downstairs at once. Tea won't serve itself." Aunt Petunia ordered. She flounced off, leaving him drooping at the door.

Sighing, Harry trudged down the stairs. It was odd that at school he was so famous and loved but when he came back to this house he was nothing more than a piece of dirt.

Harry went into the kitchen and began to set the table. He took the ginger cake out of the oven and he heated the kettle of tea.

In a while, his uncle Vernon huffed his way into the kitchen and sat down on a chair heavily. He stared nastily at Harry. "Hurry up, boy!"

Anger boiled in the pit of Harry's stomach but he didn't respond. Wearily, he took out cups and saucers and began to fill the cups with tea.

"Boy! I'm hungry here! Hurry up or I'll give you a good slapping so that you mind your manners. Freakish whelp-don't you dare try to be insolent with me!" Uncle Vernon yelled.

"I'm _getting_ it," Harry muttered in a low voice as he took the plate of ginger cake and put it on the table. He placed a knife next to the plate and hurried to get the cups of tea.

Uncle Vernon narrowed his watery eyes at him and muttered, "None of your cheek, boy."

"I'm not cheeking," Harry insisted.

"Are you talking back to me!?" Uncle Vernon demanded.

"No, sir," Harry said, hastily. He quickly hurried to get out the forks and spoons so that he could leave.

"That's just as well. I won't have the wimpy son of two psychotic people cheeking off to me," Uncle Vernon decided.

Harry froze, a strange pounding in his ears. "My parents were not psychotic." He said, firmly.

"MIND THAT TONGUE OF YOURS BOY!" Uncle Vernon yelled.

Harry shut his mouth with a clamp.

"Your parents were freaks!" Uncle Vernon shouted. "And don't you forget it!"

Harry couldn't stand anyone talking bad of his parents. They had died for him, sacrificed their _lives _for him. How dare anyone call them freaks!

He looked at Uncle Vernon, indignantly. "They weren't freaks!" He cried. "They were great people and guess what-they were worth ten of you!"

In his opinion, he had hardly said anything that bad. But at once Harry realised that Uncle Vernon considered this "too far." There was a scary silence and Harry stood, fuming, staring with ferocious intensity at Uncle Vernon, feeling anger pulse through every vein of his body. His parents were NOT freaks.

"Go to your room," Uncle Vernon growled. "Now. GO! You'll be getting a good whipping for this, boy! Mark my words! GO!"

Harry stared, dread and anger churning in his stomach. Before he knew it, the cabinets behind Uncle Vernon were shaking violently and had fallen upon the floor in a heap of wood and cutlery. There was an explosive _crash! _The mess was awful.

Harry backed away. Did _he_ do that?

Uncle Vernon gaped at the mess. Aunt Petunia came running into the kitchen to see what had happened. Bony hands went upwards to cover her mouth in shock. "My kitchen!"

Harry's mouth went dry. "I didn't mean to-I didn't m..."

"Go-upstairs," Uncle Vernon gritted his teeth.

Harry stared, unable to move. "But-"

"GO!" Uncle Vernon bellowed. "NOW!"

He was so dead, so dead, so dead...-

"Now, boy!" Aunt Petunia ordered.

Harry raced upstairs, utterly frightened. He should have controlled himself. Magic wasn't _allowed_ out of school. He was going to expelled, he was going to be beaten into a pulp.

He ran in his room, locked the door and fell onto his bed, hugging his knees.

"Oh Hedwig, what am I going to do?" He mumbled. The owl hooted sternly, probably scolding him for loosing his temper like that. But he just couldn't stand anyone saying stuff like that about his parents...

He was so dead...

...

Harry looked out of the window, sullenly. It had only been ten minutes or so since his magical outburst. The evening sky was getting darker. Harry suddenly noticed that someone was walking up the street...He suddenly realized that the person was wearing _robes_! Deep purple robes!

He crept out of the room and went downstairs just as the doorbell rang. Aunt Petunia went to get the door. She shrieked in horror, backing away.

"Please calm down, Petunia," the person said, pleasantly. Harry had definitely heard that voice somewhere... "I have just come to meet Harry,"

"Dumbledore!" Harry cried in surprise, looking at him from the stairs. He flew down the steps and hurried up to him. "But why're you here, what's wrong? Um, sir."

Dumbledore gave him a rueful smile. "I had simply heard of your accidental magic and wanted to see if everything was alright,"

Harry froze. "S-sir? I'm not in trouble, am I?"

"Let's talk inside, Harry. Won't you invite me in, Petunia?"

"I will certainly not! Please leave at once!" Aunt Petunia was shaking. Uncle Vernon peeped out from the kitchen, a green bottle of beer in his hand. "OI!" He cried. "What're you doing in my house!?"

Dumbledore looked faintly surprised. "I simply wish to speak to your nephew, Mr Dursley. If you may let me enter?"

"ENTER!? ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR-"

Dumbledore had taken out his wand and was fingering it, calmly. "Mr Dursley, I must insist that you allow me to talk to Harry. It is rather important,"

Uncle Vernon turned an ugly shade of puce when he saw the wand. He spluttered. "I-but-well, only for a moment, then-"

"Thank you," Dumbledore walked inside. Smiling at Harry, he said, "Do lead me to the living room, Harry,"

Feeling the dread deepen in his gut, Harry led Dumbledore to the sitting room. Dumbledore sat down on a sofa and waved his hand for Harry to take a seat too. Aunt Petunia hovered at the door, nervously. After biting her lip and wringing her hands, she disappeared.

There was a small silence.

"Well! Accidental magic, Harry! It gave me quite a scare." Dumbledore was smiling pleasantly, his eyes twinkling.

"How did you know, sir?" Harry stared at his feet, trying to steady his voice. "About my magic, I mean."

"I have Ministry leanings," Dumbledore said, simply. "No, Harry, don't look so worried-you are not in trouble. It is called 'accidental magic' for a reason,"

Harry sighed in relief. "Oh."

"But when I heard about it I was surprised by the nature of it. That was quite a powerful severing charm, Harry. The Ministry traced the magic and notified me of it. I offered to give the warning letter to you," Dumbledore took out an official-looking white envelope from his pocket. "I must ask...What provoked it, Harry?"

Harry gulped, not trusting himself to speak. "I'm really sorry-" he lowered his voice to a shaky whisper. "It's just that...Uncle Vernon was insulting my parents."

There a short pause. "That is understandable, Harry." Dumbledore said, kindly. "But please be more careful next time."

They talked a little more and then Dumbledore stood up. Harry stood too, now disappointed that the Headmaster was leaving.

Dumbledore reached out his hand to shake his before leaving, and suddenly Harry's sleeve went up. There was huge red welt on Harry's arm.

"What is this?" Dumbledore looked taken aback.

Harry paled. "N-nothing, sir,"

"Harry, how did you get this bruise?"

Harry gulped. It had been one of the results of Uncle Vernon's punishments. "Accident," he mumbled, not meeting the Headmaster's eyes.

Dumbledore stared at him with fierce intensity. "Are you sure of that?"

His penetrating gaze and firm voice couldn't bring Harry to lie.

After a long, reluctant pause, Harry gabbled: "It-it was my fault. I was being rude-I deserved it. And it's nothing, honestly. It doesn't even hurt anymore-"

"Did your uncle do this, Harry?" Dumbledore cut through his rambling with a cold, quiet voice.

Harry looked miserable. "Yes, sir," he whispered, shamefully. Tears were stinging in his eyes and his nose had just smarted painfully.

"How many more bruises like this are there?"

"Not many more," Harry lied.

Dumbledore didn't look convinced. He looked rather dangerous, actually. "I had always thought," he said slowly. "That living with your relatives was difficult, but tolerable, Harry."

"It...It is,"

"Are your aunt or uncle abusing you?"

"A-abuse? I don't think so, sir,"

Dumbledore stared at him for a moment, as if making a decision. Then he took out his wand and tapped it on Harry's arm earnestly. Suddenly Harry's shirt was semi-transparent. Harry yelped. "Professor!"

Welts covered his back and there was a bleeding scratch just under the back of his neck. Another tap and the shirt was opaque again. Dumbledore looked shocked. "Harry, my boy, how did all of that happen?"

Harry had jumped back several inches. He was looking terrified. "I'm sorry, sir, I'm sorry! It's all my fault. I mouthed off to him this morning-"

Dumbledore took a step forward. A fire gleamed in his eyes. "I wish to speak to your uncle,"

"No, no, please. You don't understand," Harry begged.

But Dumbledore was walking firmly out of the room. Harry remained behind, shivering and shaking. Nonono, he was in _so_ much trouble! He wasn't supposed to tell!

Tears stung in his eyes again and he felt like sobbing.

...

Dumbledore returned after a very long while. "Harry, pack up at once. All of your things, please. You will not remain here a second longer," He said.

Harry couldn't believe his ears. "Sir?"

"I'd like you to bring everything you own and come with me, Harry. I'm afraid I won't stand such behavior towards you."

Harry stared at Dumbledore numbly for a second. Then he nodded hastily and went upstairs to get his stuff.

After a short while, Harry stood at the foot of the stairs, holding a heavy trunk, Hedwig's cage and his broomstick. There were goosebumps all over his arms and he couldn't stop shivering from the shock. Was he actually leaving? ...forever?

He could see his Uncle Vernon staring in shock from the kitchen, looking shaken and gobsmacked. Aunt Petunia's eyes were red.

Dumbledore looked fierce and angry. He wordlessly motioned for Harry to follow him. Harry glanced back once at his aunt and uncle and hurriedly followed the old man.

"I am so sorry, Harry," Dumbledore said, when they had stepped out of the house. "If I had only known sooner what kind of-"

"It's nothing, sir, honestly," Harry tried to explain. "I'm used to it. It's not really that big a deal, I promise," He was trying to calm Dumbledore down but he was actually relieved inside.

Dumbledore's eyes flashed. "Despicable," he said with a sigh, after a short pause. "Intolerable. The son of James and Lily...How I could let you get beaten for no apparent reason..." He took a deep breath. "I trust you don't know what Apparation is, Harry?"

"No, sir," Harry said, truthfully.

"I fear you may be too young," Dumbledore sighed. "But I suppose if you hold on tight, it will not be too unpleasant. Do take hold of my arm, Harry."

Harry obeyed, confused. Dumbledore smiled ruefully. "Brace yourself now.", and suddenly there was a _crack. _The ground seemed to swirl before him. Harry had to bite his lip hard from yelling aloud. It was like some crazy roller coaster ride-only it was going _way_ too fast.

Before Harry knew it, he had fallen to the ground and the air was suddenly different from Privet Drive's dull, unmoving atmosphere. Harry gasped for breath as he recovered from the shock.

"Are you alright?" Dumbledore asked, concernedly.

"Yes, sir." Harry got up, wearily. And then he caught his breath again. They were facing the Hogwarts castle!

"I lifted the enchantments so that we could apparate inside the grounds. What you just witnessed was side-Apparation, Harry. Come now. Once we are in my office, we will discuss a few things."

Harry obeyed and they went into the castle, heading for the Headmaster's office.

...

Once they had reached, Harry was offered several lemon drops and given the letter from the Ministry. It was from Madam Mafilda Hopkins, stating that magic in front of the non-magical population (Muggles) was against the law and that this was his first warning to be more careful. Then Dumbledore wanted to know everything about what the Dursleys had done to him and he interrogated Harry about any more abuse.

Harry gave the Headmaster vague information about his punishments and how he had had them since he had been eight or so.

Dumbledore had been outraged, repeatedly stating how Harry shouldn't have gone through all of that and that he apologised for not helping out sooner.

"The blood wards business is another matter, however," Dumbledore looked tired and weary. "But I suppose nothing can be done about that at the present. Your well-being is of much more importance at the moment. I will think of something, however-Your safety is my prime concern. For now, please report to the Hospital Wing where Madam Pomfrey will tend to your wounds."

"I'm fine, really-" Harry felt like a baby, but Dumbledore was firm. When Harry left for the Hospital Wing (Madam Pomfrey was still there?) reluctantly, Dumbledore made a very important fire-call to Professor Snape.

"Severus, please report to my office immediately. I am sorry for this sudden summons. But it is an urgent matter and I request your help,"

Professor Snape promised that he would be right there.

...

Severus Snape had never looked forward to going home for the summer. Well, he did enjoy the break from the frustrating students and all the work, but his house was dull and had a lonesome air around it. He and Dumbledore had had important business to work on and that was why he was a week late for going back home. He usually visited Hogwarts now and then in the summer anyway, to assist Dumbledore's various needs. All the other teachers had left, though, and it had been quite a surprise when he had gotten the sudden fire-call from the Headmaster.

"I will be right there," Snape had muttered, wondering what on earth had occurred this time. He walked through the corridors, towards Dumbledore's office, very irritable.

Soon he was seated in front of the old man, who looked rather pensive.

"Yes, Dumbledore. What is it this time?" Snape asked in a bored voice.

"Harry just had a burst of accidental magic, Severus," Dumbledore said.

"Really?" Snape looked unconcerned.

"When I went to his house to give him the letter from the Ministry, and check up on him, I saw something very disturbing,"

"Did you?"

"Yes, I did. And it was a welt, Severus. The boy was covered in bruises! I have taken him away from his relatives for now and he is in the Hospital Wing, getting cured by Poppy. It was quite concerning-"

Snape straightened, finally giving his whole attention to the matter. The Potter boy was _beaten__?_ Snape had thought that he was quite spoilt at home.

"That is...tragic," Snape attempted to sneer, but something very much like worry glinted in his eyes. "But why have you called me?"

"I would like you to help me with the matter."

"How?" Snape narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

"I would like you to take care of Harry for the summer until I find a permanent home for him to stay, or convince his relatives, or something of the sort," Dumbledore said. "He has no home at the moment and cannot stay with me. I am far too busy-don't look at me like that, Severus! It's only for the summer. How long can that be? And you gave me your word that-"

"You ask too much of me, old man!" Snape bellowed. "I had agreed to _protect _him, but I never agreed to letting him live with me! He is his father all over again-arrogant and full of himself. I refuse to-"

"Harry is abused, Severus. He has been treated horribly."

"Why can't you ask someone else?" Snape demanded.

"It's only a short, temporary arrangement, Severus. I don't want to trouble anyone. Besides, who else is there?"

"The...the Weasleys," Snape thought.

"I am sure you know about their financial issues and how busy they are at the moment."

"I cannot stand him, Dumbledore and nor will he be able to stay very happily with me. It will be an intolerable situation-"

"You gave me your word, Severus," Dumbledore said, simply. "You say that Harry is just like his father. But what about his mother? He is Lily's son and you keep forgetting that."

There was a pause where Snape gave Dumbledore a murderous look. After the cold silence, Severus growled: "Suppose I am willing...Suppose I _am _willing...I trust that you will let me discipline him and treat him how I see fit."

It was Dumbledore's turn to look suspicious. "For example?"

"If he steps out of line-which I don't doubt he sooner or later will-I will deal with him as I please, and you will not stand in my way. I will have my own rules and he will obey them."

"I don't want you to hurt-" Dumbledore began.

"I doubt it will hurt him in the long run,"

Dumbledore sighed. "Very well, Severus. You have my consent. But please remember that Harry has been hurt enough already,"

Snape had no reply to this. He merely glowered.

"He is currently in the Hospital Wing. Why don't you go meet him and explain to him the situation?"

Snape sneered. "I have a feeling you will do a better job at _that_, Dumbledore,"

"Go meet him all the same, Severus. And please tell him that I'd like to talk to him."

...

Harry had mixed feelings about Madam Pomfrey. She was pleasant and meant well and all, but sometimes she was awfully fussy.

Madam Pomfrey had been shocked when she had seen his bruises, and had demanded to know what had happened. She fed him various potions and had fussed and fussed-telling him to relax, offering him many soothing potions. Harry had felt rather annoyed.

Harry, now, sulked on a bed, while Madam Pomfrey went off somewhere to get a clean cloth. His bottom lip kept sticking out and he felt embarrassed with all the proceedings. He sat still, bored.

It was only when a low voice reached his ears, did he flinch violently and turn his head wildly to look at the door: "Well, well, well. Relaxing, Potter?"

Harry caught his breath for the third time that day. Standing in the doorway, to his shock, was Snape! He jumped off the bed at once. "P-professor?"

"Sit down, Potter." Snape said, irritably. The man looked rather bitter and unpleasant, Harry noted, still standing. What was he doing here, still at school?

"So. Is the poor Potter in pain?" Snape sneered. He couldn't see anything wrong with the boy. No pain on his face, nothing. Either he had been healed completely or he had just been putting up a fuss. Snape preferred the latter.

Harry's blood boiled. He bit his lip from retorting.

"The Headmaster would like to see you," Snape informed him silkily.

"Madam Pomfrey-" Harry began.

"I will notify her. Come now," Snape interrupted him. He scanned Harry critically. Had he seriously been covered with bruises? Dumbledore had been probably exaggerating...as usual.

Harry gave him what seemed very much like an insolent glare and then stomped out of the room.

Snape, after taking to Madam Pomfrey, led him to Dumbledore's office. After a scoffed password of "Acid Pops,", they went inside the room.

"Please sit," Dumbledore's eyes were twinkling.

Harry looked uncomfortably at Snape. He really didn't get the man. Snape had definitely saved his life last term, but he _hated_ him. The way the man looked at him-a gaze full of hatred-was enough to tell him that. Harry sat but Snape remained standing.

"Harry, as you know, for now you are not staying with your relatives," Dumbledore began. "So as a...temporary place for the summer, I have requested Professor Snape to let you stay with him for a few weeks."

Harry gaped. "W-whaa?" This wasn't happening, it wasn't! He wasn't going to spend the summer with his least-favourite Professor, was he?

Snape was grimacing as if this hadn't been his choice.

"But-but sir..." Harry pleaded, trying to make Dumbledore understand.

"Yes, Harry?" Dumbledore looked stern.

"I-it's..." Harry hoped he'd get it. _He hates me, he hates me. Snape hates me!_

"Yes?" Dumbledore prompted.

Harry couldn't exactly say that. Especially with Snape standing right behind him! He could just imagine Snape's reaction if he told Dumbledore that. His uncle's beatings would be a mercy.

Harry looked downcast, worrying his bottom lip. "N-nothing, sir."

"Well then, Harry, it's settled!" Dumbledore beamed. "Severus, please take Harry with you. I will visit sometime later to check if things are alright!"

Snape snorted softly, incredulous and annoyed. Thoroughly displeased with everything of course! Harry thought angrily.

The man swept towards the door but Harry lingered. This was his last chance.

"Professor-" Harry hissed. "Sn-Professor Snape doesn't...he doesn't like me,"

"Nonsense," Dumbledore said, brightly. "Professor Snape may be strict but I'm sure he does not dislike you."

Harry had no answer to this and the dismissal in Dumbledore's voice was so strong that he could not ignore it.

Harry had no choice but to follow Snape out of the office, resigned to his fate.

...

Harry couldn't stop worrying. Snape led him through the castle, making snide comments now and then. By the time they had reached his quarters, Harry had to suppress the urge to make a run for it.

Snape opened the door of his quarters with an irritated face and moved aside to let Harry pass.

"We will be leaving tomorrow," Snape snapped. "For now, you will remain here and not make a noise."

"Yes, sir," Harry glared.

"I'm just as thrilled about this as you are," Snape said, dryly. "The Headmaster seems to think that this is a perfect arrangement. I assure you that I had no word in it," He paused for dramatics. "I have...work to do. There's a spare room in the corridor," Snape waved his hand around, carelessly. "Rest. I'm sure you've had quite enough excitement for today,"

Harry tried not to pout. Things were looking awful already. He could see a wall clock behind Snape's head and it was a little more than eight o' clock. Two hours since tea.

"Yes, sir," Harry said, glumly.

Snape went inside the spare room before letting Harry in. He gestured for Harry to come inside after he came out. "I've transfigured a bed for you, Potter." Snape said, smoothly. "Get inside,"

Harry shot him a dirty look before obeying.

"I suppose you're hungry too," Snape drawled, his sneer never wavering. "Would the famous Potter like something to eat?"

Harry glared at Snape, about to tell him he _didn't_. But then he felt weak. He _was_ kind of hungry...But he didn't want to give Snape another reason to sneer about.

"No, sir," Harry said, coolly. "Thanks though,"

Snape flushed slightly, looking at Harry with a look of loathing. "None of your insolent cheek, Potter." He snarled. He slammed the door, leaving a slightly triumphant Harry behind. But the smirk was wiped off Harry's face after Snape left.

He looked around the room, imagining everything Snape would put him through. This would be a hell of a summer. As Harry tried not to cry (he was too old for _that_!), the sky darkened outside, as could be seen from the window on the right, and the stars shone, the only source of light in all of the darkness.

* * *

**Ending Notes:- **I hope you guys liked it so far. If it's too rushed and slightly OOC or AU, please don't get disheartened. I'm going to do my best. The next chapter will be up fairly soon. The first few chapters of a new story always come quick-that's when the inspiration is bursting. Please review! They make my lonely author heart happy. Hehe.


	2. Settling In with Snape and Hating It

**A/N:- **If you find my narrative odd it's because I've been reading Sherlock Holmes. Lots of it. Anyway, I'm still extremely nervous about this-reviews are appreciated. I hope this chapter's better than the last. I couldn't write it in the summary because there was a word limit, but please note that this story contains spanking! I don't support it but yes, I write it. If you frown upon that...well, I guess you could skip the parts.

**Warning for the Chapter: **One swat.

**DISCLAIMER:- **I don't own Harry Potter.

* * *

**The Light In The Darkness**

**Two**

"Get up, Potter. I'm sure you'd prefer to laze around for the remainder of the night but I must insist that you have your dinner," Snape's voice called from the door.

Harry's head shot upwards. He had been staring at his hands, sitting cross-legged on the bed. "Dinner?" Harry looked blank. Then he shook himself and forced himself to answer. "Yes, sir."

"Come with me. Despite what you are probably expecting, you're not eating in bed," Snape sneered. Harry shuffled to the door, miserable. A rough hand suddenly took hold of his collar and swirled him around so that he faced his Potions Master.

"Look at me," Snape said, sharply.

Harry glared into the cold, black eyes-those tunnel-like eyes which seemed to suck your soul itself into them.

"I understand that you are upset about all of this, believe me, the feeling is entirely mutual-but there are going to be a firm set of rules. If you disobey me or behave insolently, I will punish you severely. Is that understood?"

"Yes," Harry glared.

Snape's eyes narrowed. "Yes, what?"

"Yes, sir." Harry could feel his blood boiling.

"Good," Snape let go of his collar and started walking away. "Come, Potter, I don't have all day,"

Harry followed the man into a room which looked like a kitchen. There was a large table with chairs and Snape gestured with his hand to order Harry to sit down.

Harry sat, uncomfortably. His eyes kept swivelling from Snape to the table. Snape waved his wand and suddenly hot food appeared on the table. "I had the elves bring in an extra meal. Eat. You look as if you hadn't eaten in months,"

Harry picked up his spoon and began eating. Hogwarts' food was always wonderful and this plateful was great too. But with Snape looming over him, looking so disapproving and hateful...Everything tasted like rubber.

The man made a few snide comments and then left the kitchen. Harry was glad for that. He finished his meal in peace and then got up, feeling slightly better.

After dinner, Snape ordered him to go to sleep and not bother him and Harry was grateful that he did not have to see the man any longer. Slipping into the spare room, he settled on the bed and pulled the thick, warm covers over him. He snuggled into the pillow.

Tomorrow he would probably have to go and stay at Snape's home. How delightful..._not_.

...

Harry was awoken the next morning by the impatient knock on the door. At first, he thought it had just been a dream, but then it came again-louder and more insistent.

He groaned. What time was it? The sun could barely be out.

_Knock! _"Potter!" Snape's voice was irate.

Harry reached for his glasses. He pushed himself off the bed and went to the door, opening it with sleepy eyes.

"Did you not hear me? Your insolence never fails to astonish me, Potter!" Snape scolded, taking a firm grip of his shoulder and shaking him. "I don't have all day-get dressed and come outside!"

Harry's teeth rattled by all the shaking. "I'm _going_." He protested, pulling away.

"Don't you talk back to me," Snape glared at him. "Hurry up or I'll leave you behind." He walked off, his day robes flapping behind him.

Harry glowered at him. He was _just_ like Uncle Vernon. Telling him not to talk back and threatening him and getting mad if he didn't wake up the second he knocked.

Harry slammed the door behind him, feared Snape would come up there again for that, then found his trunk and stuff in a corner of the room. He took out one of Dudley's smallest shirts and wore it.

After he was dressed, Harry crept out of the room and looked around. He walked to the center of Snape's quarters-where there were sofas and a desk with a chair next to it. Snape wasn't there. He fidgeted, shifting from foot to foot. Should he call for the man? Should he wait here?

He wasn't left to wonder for long because Snape entered the room at that moment, frowning at him. "It's about time." he sneered as he walked to the door. "Well, come on Potter. I have more important businesses to attend to."

...

Harry didn't want to say goodbye to the Headmaster. It was all his fault that he was in this mess in the first place. But...Dumbledore had also saved him from Uncle Vernon's wrath. So he went to the old man and said, "Thank you for your help, sir."

Dumbledore told him to write to him if anything was wrong and bade him good luck.

That was what Harry needed. Good luck.

He and Snape reached the man's house soon enough. Harry had thought that they would go by train or something. Unfortunately, after Snape found out that he and Dumbledore had apparated to Hogwarts, he decided that it would be better if they apparated too.

Harry wasn't sure if he really liked the method. He had felt like throwing up last time. But he did not and could not tell Snape that. Snape ordered him to hold his hand (much to both of their displeasure, dramatically enough) and they were at the man's house almost at once.

Harry's first impression was that of surprise.

He had never really thought about where Snape lived when he wasn't at Hogwarts. The house in front of him was big and ordinary and it had a dark sort of feeling about it.

Once Harry was inside, Snape showed him where he would be staying. It was a room, upstairs, next to the library. It was big and had a large, comfortable bed in the middle of it. There was a wardrobe and a side table and a dull rug on the floor. There was a door to the left and it probably led to the bathroom. Overall, the room was fine. Harry had almost expected Snape to throw him in some cold dungeon and feed him scraps.

"Thank you, sir," Harry said, politely. They were standing in his room.

Snape sneered, not acknowledging the gratitude. "Don't push your luck, Potter. I want you to unpack all of your things and then, if you're hungry, you can have something to eat."

"Alright," Harry mumbled.

"I remind you that even though we are not at school, you will refer to me as 'sir' or 'professor' at all times. Is that understood, Potter?"

"Yes...sir," Harry said, hurriedly. He pulled his trunk onto the bed and began pulling out his old spell books and clothes. He wondered if he'd go to Diagon Alley for his new stuff soon.

Snape left him alone and Harry unpacked calmly. He put his trunk under his bed and looked around his room. It was even bigger than Dudley's second bedroom. And the bed was bigger too. Harry fingered the fluffy comforter. It was much more _comfortable_ anyway.

Harry's stomach rumbled. He didn't want to face Snape-yet he had had no breakfast and he felt slightly peckish.

So he walked outside his room. He fidgeted. He decided to look around.

It turned out that Snape's house was wonderful. There was a full-set library in one room, full of dusty books. There was a study, with a desk and lots of quills and papers. There was a locked room but Harry could smell something from within. Something brewing.

He saw the living room, a room with sofas, a rug, and a coffee table. There were no electric lights but chandeliers and sockets on the walls with candles. Harry looked around a little more. He found a large room with a dining table inside. And then he found the kitchen.

It was big and clean, with marble slabs and dark cupboards. There was a large stove with nothing on it and there were cabinets. Harry wondered where he'd find something to snack on. Would Snape be like the Dursleys? Only feeding him little and reprimanding him for every extra thing he sneaked out?-

"Potter!"

Harry flinched and turned around hastily. "Sir?"

"What do you think you're doing there?" Snape was advancing towards him, looking livid. Harry felt fearful.

"I was just looking for something to...to eat," Harry explained.

"Why didn't you call me-instead of roaming around my house without permission? Do you think you can go wherever you wish or please, just like your father? Well, _do_ you?" Snape demanded.

"No, I don't!" Harry shouted. It was just like at the Dursleys. Uncle Vernon insulting his father and him loosing his temper. The same would happen here. He just knew it.

There was an oppressive pause.

"You ever shout at me like that again and I will make sure you don't ever speak again unless I wish you to. Do I make myself clear!?" Snape said, dangerously.

"Yessir," Harry glared.

"Good. Now, as you keep insisting upon, you must be half-starved by the journey." Snape said, sneering. "I will get you something to eat. You will eat in the Dining Room. You will not waste anything. _Nor_ will you make any mess-or you will find yourself in a whole lot of trouble. Is that clear, Potter?"

Snape's eyes glinted dangerously when Harry nodded, mournfully.

"Uh, I mean yes, sir," Harry said, quickly.

...

Snape had, as Harry had now confirmed in his mind, a very short temper.

It wasn't like he wasn't trying.

He _was_ trying. Trying not to get in the man's way, trying not to anger him. But everything he did made Snape more and more annoyed until Harry was exasperated and tired.

"Sit up straight," Snape chided as Harry bent over a book he had given him to read. Something boring about potions.

"How'm I supposed to read it, then?" Harry muttered.

"Excuse me?" Snape looked up from his desk, looking dangerous.

"Nothing, sir," Harry mumbled.

"Stop slouching. Once you are done I will take a quiz. We'll know if you've been listening to my orders or disobeying me as usual. Do I make myself plain?"

Harry groaned under his breath.

Snape glared at him. "I _said, _do I make myself plain?"

"Yes, sir." Harry refrained from throwing the potions book at him, right on the nose.

Harry read a little more, though he was unable to take much in. Potions were fun and all-mixing and stuff, but _reading_ about them was kind of boring. Harry stared blankly at the pages. He started thinking of Hogwarts and Quidditch and treacle tart and Hagrid...And for a few blissful moments he kept thinking.

Before Harry could read another sentence or brace himself, a cold hand had clamped itself around his shoulder and his head shot up, nearly falling off his shoulders.

"Well, well, well. Daydreaming, are we? I suppose I can take that little quiz right now. Give me that book-" To Harry's horror, Snape snatched up the book from under his nose and walked a few inches in front of him.

"Let's start, Potter-Where can wolfsbane be most found?" Snape asked, a sneer curling around his mouth.

Harry gulped, feeling terrified. Snape was _so_ going to kill him.

"It's rather easy, Potter," Snape scowled. "Don't tell me you don't know. Well? Answer me!"

"I-I don't..." Harry stopped mid-sentence upon seeing the furious and dangerous look on Snape's face. No, he needed to survive till the end of summer. "Um...South America?"

The look did not lessen or go away-if anything, it grew even more savage.

"You think this is a joke Potter?" Snape demanded, advancing towards him. He pulled Harry to a standing position roughly, shaking him by the collar. "You think I don't mean what I say? Well I've had it with your disobedience!"

"Please, sir! I was trying-" Harry pleaded. But he was cut short when Snape turned him round and suddenly applied a stinging slap to his backside. He gasped in surprise.

Before he could recover, Snape had twisted him around and had pushed him away roughly. Harry's eyes were watering and he felt like crying. The reprimand had been harsh.

"Sit down!"

Harry sat as fast as he could in his haste to obey and not anger Snape further.

"You ever disobey my orders again and I will make sure you don't sit for a week. Now read every _word_ of this book and if I catch you daydreaming again, you'll wish you'd never been born," Snape growled. He threw the book back on the table, startling Harry.

"What are you waiting for, then? Get to it!" Snape ordered.

"Y-yes sir," Harry was trying his best not to cry. This was just like at the Dursleys. Snape had raised his hand on him and had threatened to hit him harder and for longer. He had to tell Dumbledore! Hadn't the Headmaster asked to write if anything went wrong? Well, he _would_ write-he'd tell the Headmaster what Snape had done to him and get rescued. He had known Snape was no better than his Uncle Vernon.

_Well, not really, _A small voice in his head said. _He just gave you one swat. That wasn't so bad. And besides, you _were_ daydreaming and not listening to him. _

Harry told that voice to shut up.

Tears stinging, Harry blinked and meekly read the paragraphs, though he felt like disappearing at the moment. His bottom hurt somewhat and he wanted to rub at it. Who knew Snape could smack so hard? He must of used all of his strength for that single blow.

Harry felt like hiding somewhere until school started again.

...

Harry swept the floor of his room and the dust flew up to his nose and made him sneeze. Snape had told him that he would be responsible for cleaning his own room and that if he misbehaved, he would also have to clean the rest of the house too. He was also responsible for washing his own dishes. That wasn't too bad. Just a room and a plate and glass to keep clean. Much better than what he went through at the Dursleys.

Harry flopped on his bed and lay back. His back ached a bit and he felt a little drowsy. With Snape busy, he could spend the rest of the day relaxing.

It was hardly a few minutes when Snape's cold voice broke through the peaceful silence. "Wake _up, _Potter. Did cleaning up the room tire you to such an extent?"

Harry sat up rigidly, glaring at Snape. "No, I was just resting-"

"Resting, relaxing-that's all you do, Potter," Snape snapped. "Now get up! I have some work for you,"

"Work?" Harry was confused. And scared.

"Yes, Potter, work." The man said waspishly. "Does it look like I have all day? Now, come. I don't have time,"

Harry followed the man, apprehensively.

To his surprise, Snape led him into his lab. It was filled with ingredients and cauldrons.

"You," Snape looked at Harry, the loathing in check. "Are going to help me brew. It ought to keep you out of trouble for a few minutes and hopefully will increase your abysmal skills in the subject."

Harry had no problem with that. Except that he had to work with Snape. And that he didn't understand why the man had asked him to help. It seemed more than a reason to keep him out of trouble.

So Harry helped Snape measure and handed him ingredients. It would of been fun-the lab was big and full of cool stuff. But Snape was nastier than ever. He sneered at him at every opportunity and kept telling him that he had no confusion as to why he was such a lamentable potion-maker-It was obviously heredity.

Snape also invoked unpleasant conversation from time to time and sometimes even asked him to tell him what were the uses of lacewing flies and what not.

"You've read it in that book I gave you," Snape was indignant when Harry claimed that he did not know the answer. "Or did you? You haven't been disobeying me again, have you?"

"No, sir!" Harry insisted. "I just forgot..."

Snape scowled at him and ordered him to bring him that powder from over there.

"What're you brewing?" Harry asked curiously, after a while.

One sharp look later, he hastily added. "Sir,"

"A healing potion. It is rather simple to make. Madam Pomfrey requested me to give it to you after dinner. For your _bruises."_

Harry noticed that the man said the word 'bruises' as if he didn't believe he had any. Well, they _were_ healing and didn't hurt anymore except if he thought about it too much, but Harry felt hurt all the same.

He saw Snape sneer at him in disapproval and disbelief. Harry decided to shut his mouth and just get on with the work.

...

Harry had seen that Snape had a garden. A big one with flower beds and strange plants and a large tree. There was nothing to do inside but read or work and Harry thought that it would be fun to run around a bit in the garden.

_I'm not a baby. What will I do running around? _Harry thought.

_Well, it's better than reading the books Snape gives_, Harry retorted to his own thought.

So, he gathered up his courage, and asked Snape, "Can I go into the front garden, Professor?"-Extra politely so Snape had no reason to say 'no'.

"May I." Snape corrected, looking annoyed. "And why would you want to go into the garden?"

"Just to...to play a bit," Harry blushed and looked at the floor. He would have liked to add that he was also feeling a little cooped up but he knew Snape wouldn't like that.

"Play." Snape repeated and Harry squirmed and blushed under the harsh gaze. After a moment, the man sighed, "I suppose for a while. I have work to do anyways and I don't want you in my way."

Taking this as a dismissal, Harry hurriedly thanked the man and went to the front door and opened it.

He breathed in the fresh air and took a deep breath. He stepped outside and saw Potion ingredients growing in neat beds. Colorful flowers. The tree looked rather climbable too. Harry raced over to it, climbing it easily. He had loads of experience climbing. When Dudley and his gang or Aunt Marge's dogs came to visit, this was quite a necessary skill.

Sitting on the top-most branch, Harry felt triumphant. He had climbed this tree in under a minute or something, and the view over the fence was wonderful...

Harry wondered if Snape would allow him to leave the house once in a while. On a walk through the streets. When life with the Dursleys got too bad, he always took a walk. Walks were very soothing sometimes.

Harry suddenly wished that he never had to go back to the Dursleys again. Never again, never ever.

Long minutes passed as he contemplated on this. And then he nearly fell off the branch-

"Potter!"

Harry deftly climbed back down, shaking slightly. He looked around, worrying his bottom lip.

Snape was fuming at the front door. And the look on his face showed Harry that he was in great trouble...

"S-sir," Harry cursed himself for stammering and sounding so weak.

"_What_ do you think you're doing, Potter?" Snape flew to him, shaking him roughly.

"What?" Harry asked, innocently.

"Under no circumstances will you climb that tree. Is that clear?" Snape demanded.

"Why not?" Harry shot back, his common sense evaporating as indignation and anger replaced it.

There was a scary silence. Harry stared fixedly at one of Snape's buttons.

"_Why not_?" Snape's voice was dangerous and low. "Because I _said_ so, Potter. That should be explanation enough! You could have broken your neck and I will _not_ be responsible for-"

"I've climbed trees before, to get away from the Dursleys," Harry snarled, once again forgetting his common sense. "And I've never fallen."

This time Snape looked murderous. "Be as it may, Potter, but I do not care about that in the least-This is _my_ house, and you will follow _my_ rules." He spoke in barely more than a whisper. "And if I catch you talking back to me or not listening to what I say, you will find yourself with a very sore behind. Do you understand?"

There was a lump in Harry's throat that wouldn't go. He swallowed.

"I said, _do you understand!?"_ Snape was shaking him hard now.

"Y-yes, sir," Harry looked miserable, as he whispered. "I understand,"

"Good." Snape let him go. "Unless you have a death wish, you will not climb any tree of any sort."

"Yes, sir,"

"Tea is ready. I wish you to eat, and then you will rest for the remainder of the day."

"Yes, sir,"

Snape gave him an odd look as if not expecting something from him. "Well?-what are you waiting for? Get inside!"

Harry obeyed, his insides writhing. He _hated_ Snape, _hated_ him.

And as he walked to the Dining Room, he wondered if Snape was indeed even worse than the Dursleys.

* * *

**Ending Notes:- **This chapter was harder to write because I didn't understand how to make it flow towards the major events. But thanks God I've got it on track. I will be posting the next chapter fairly soon. Please, please, please review and tell me what you think. Action will arise soon. Snape may seem horribly mean but he will get better. It was crucial to the plot to make him like this.


	3. Some Bruises, Some Light

**A/N:- **I'm sorry if Snape was too harsh the last chapter. Please keep reading-your support is what drives me to write this.

Okay I am seriously ranting here but I am also seriously **fed up **by Snape hate. There is an article on the web called "Snape is just nasty, right?" By a website called madasafish. It's worth a google. It proves that Snape isn't a jerk after all (Well, not entirely at least). And if someone calls him greasy one more time I'm going to pop. I bet his hair wasn't _even_ that greasy and there's** nothing **wrong his nose. And besides, Snape could always fix his teeth by magic if he had time (or cared -.-) and I don't see how being skinny and pale is something to loathe. I mean for God's sake, Sirius was skinny too after breaking out of Azkaban. Nobody seemed to start loathing _him_. Okay, okay, whatever. Enjoy the chapter.

Conclusion: Snape is not entirely ugly. He is amazing. And brave. And misunderstood. And he may be a jerk, but he has also had a twisted past and if you can forgive Dumbledore, James Potter, Ron, Sirius Black-not to mention Bellatrix-then you can forgive Snape too. The end.

**Warning for the Chapter: **Implied child abuse. Nothing serious.

**DISCLAIMER:- **Harry Potter ain't mine.

* * *

**The Light In The Darkness**

**Three**

Tea was an oppressive affair. Harry had a glass of pumpkin juice and a slice of plain cake, even though Snape had said that he didn't want him to indulge in too much sugar. As if he had been stuffing cookies and chocolates in his mouth the whole time!

Harry was glowering throughout the meal for various reasons. Apparently Snape found this insolent and so, the minute Harry had cleared up, said. "You will wash the dishes. Then you will report to the sitting room. At once."

_That_ was ominous. Harry looked at Snape's retreating figure apprehensively and wondered why Snape wanted to talk to him. He wasn't going to get smacked again, was he?

Several minutes passed and after scrubbing his plate and cup at the sink in the kitchen, Harry made his slow way to the sitting room.

Snape was standing next to a desk, looking dour as he stared down at a letter on it's surface.

"Sir?"

Snape looked up. "Sit down, Potter,"

Harry sat down on a sofa.

"This is a sheet." Snape showed Harry a paper. "I would like you to sign it,"

"A sheet for what, sir?"

Snape frowned. "Guardianship, Potter,"

"Guardiansh-...oh!" Harry flushed a little. Snape handed him the sheet disdainfully, and Harry saw in official letters, the following words:

_Harry James Potter (ward)_

Harry's hand shook as he signed his name under the words. He saw Snape's own name under it, along with the man's cursive signature:

_Severus Tobias Snape (guardian)_

But wait..._guardianship_? Wasn't this arrangement _temporary_?

"S-sir?" Harry stammered. "What does it mean-the guardianship? Why do I need to sign this?"

"It simply means that I will be your guardian for the summer. The signature is your...consent."

"Oh," Harry resisted the urge to ask: _**Just**_ _for summer, right?_

Snape was looking at him closely. He had seen a flicker of red when Harry had climbed down the tree and when Harry had run outside. He had definitely seen something _red_. After a pause, he took a deep breath and said: "I gather that you had been abused at your relatives?"

"N-no sir, I mean...It's...nothing," Harry blushed deeply and finished somewhat lamely.

"Right," Snape examined him coolly. He was now almost certain that nothing bad had actually happened to the boy. Clearing his throat, he said, "I have some areas of concern to discuss with you, Potter."

Harry tensed.

"You are currently my ward." Snape said, smoothly. "Therefore, you are going to follow my rules. The first being, you are to listen to me under any circumstances. Any disobedience will not be tolerated. Secondly, Potter, you will have a fixed timetable. You will follow it. Any inability to do so will produce severe consequences-"

"A _timetable_?" Harry blurted, before he could stop himself.

"Furthermore, Potter, I do not take being interrupted very well. The next time you cut through me in that manner, you will not be sitting as comfortably as you are right now. Is that clear?"

"Yes, sir," Harry glared at the man.

"And yes, Potter, a timetable. Surely it is not so inconceivable, even to someone like you?"

"No, sir,"

"Good. There will be allotted times for studying, free time and meals. It will help you to organize your day and not stay idle or fidget aimlessly."

"Studying?...Sir?" Harry was feeling very irritated.

"You will spend at least an hour on your studies. I will not cope with your abysmal Potion marks for another year. Surely that is not as difficult as you are taking it? I am sure you have some holiday assignments too?"

"Yes, but-"

"Yes but _what_, Potter?" Snape looked dangerous.

"It's only..." Harry stopped himself forcibly. "N-nothing." _It's hardly July! _

"Nothing will happen to you if you spend some time on your studies, Potter, I can assure you that. The consequences for any disobedience will be severe. I tell you now that I am not a tolerant person. Extra chores and minor punishments aside, if you push me too far, I will deliver a spanking."

That froze Harry's blood cold. Yes, Snape had said he'd smack him, but Harry had thought that it would be three or four sharp smacks max. And he had half-thought that it was actually an empty threat in reality. But a _spanking_-a punishment fit for a child! And it sounded as if it would be _awful_. Just awful and long and hard. He wouldn't put it past Snape to use a _belt_ on him like his uncle Vernon. Oh, he had to tell Dumbledore before he got even _more_ bruised!

"Is that clear, Potter?" There was some unidentified emotion on Snape's face as if trying to calculate something.

"Y-yes, sir," Harry gritted his teeth. He really wanted to throw a few punches at the man.

"I am glad we understand each other," Snape sneered.

_We only understand_ you._You haven't asked or heard anything from_ me, Harry thought mutinously.

Snape pursed his lips and wondered again but the red streak and the whole issue of Harry's abuse.

"Come here," he ordered suddenly.

Harry was scared. Was Snape going to smack him already? Or maybe lecture him? But when he cautiously approached the man, Snape did none of that.

His Professor looked closely at his arm, and then pulled up the sleeve.

"Sir-" Harry panicked.

A healing bruise stood out on his pale arm. It was nearly gone (thanks to the potions) but it had definitely been there. Something changed in Snape's face. He still looked stern, but the dourness disappeared instantly.

"Are there any more bruises like this?" He demanded, roughly.

Harry didn't know what to say to this. "A bit." He amended.

Snape was looking unreadable. "Go to your room, Potter." he ordered suddenly and sternly. "I have business to attend to. I don't want you to step out of your room. Is that clear?"

"Yes, sir." Harry muttered.

"Good," Snape looked as if he was making up his mind. "Go now."

...

He hadn't known! He had surely seen something red when Potter had climbed down the tree but he had thought that it must have been some trick of the light.

Oh, it was appalling...A _bruise_!

Had there been more-all over his back? On his legs? Maybe Dumbledore _hadn't_ been exaggerating? Or perhaps there were just a few of them?

Few or not...a bruise was a bruise and Snape had some questions. He had wanted to inspect Harry further but he hadn't been comfortable. He was sure the boy wouldn't have been very comfortable with that either. The business was something Potter would rather have private and closed, if known at all.

Snape sighed as he put on his travelling cloak, his eyes sweeping over Harry's shut door. Hopefully, the boy would stay put and not move. Snape's resolves of delivering a good punishment to discipline the unruly brat of James Potter were dissolving rapidly. He didn't want to abuse Lily's child, no matter _how_ infuriating and annoying he was.

He opened the front door and closed it behind him. Right. He may loathe the boy, but he had promised to keep him safe. And he was failing in his duty at the moment...

Snape made sure no one was watching and apparated.

He arrived a moment later at Magnolia Crescent. Snape walked silently up the street, wondering how he was going to do this.

He intended to ask Mr Dursley a few questions. Important questions. And if he found out that Harry had indeed been abused and bruised...well, it wouldn't be pretty.

He walked swiftly up the streets and reached Privet Drive, silent and perfect with it's blocks of houses and manicured lawns and clean cars.

Snape walked up the street and knocked at the door of Number 4, feeling slightly apprehensive as to what he was going to do...and face.

In a few moments, a woman opened the door. She was not particularly pretty, with pale eyes and hair the colour of dried straw. She had high cheekbones and horsey teeth and she looked very shocked.

"Y-yes?" She cowered, her pale eyes taking in his robes.

"Mrs Dursley," Snape sneered at Lily's silly sister. "I would like to have a word,"

"Who are you? What do you want?" Petunia demanded.

"Ah, do you not recognize me, Mrs Dursley? I'm sure you will in a minute. I don't have time. Let me in." Snape said, impatiently.

"Leave! Please! Someone might see you," Petunia begged, shrilly.

"I am not going anywhere until you allow me to speak to you and your husband. At once."

"I-" Petunia sighed, casting woebegone looks at her neighbour's houses. "C-come in, then,"

Snape entered the house, looking slightly disgusted. Petunia made to lead him into the living room but he said: "I do not have time for hospitality. This is important,"

"Why have you come, Mister?" Petunia wrung her hands. "We've let the boy go!"

"Still don't recognize me, Mrs Dursley?" Snape said, his temper rising. "Very well...It is I-the boy who lived by the river, at Spinner's End,"

Petunia stared at him for a while. Comprehension dawned in her face and it was replaced by horror and indignation. "You! You're that filthy Snape boy!" She should have recognised him immediately-the same long hair, the same nose, the same eyes-oh, he even had the same smirk.

"Nice to see you too, Petunia," Snape said, coolly.

"What's going on there? Who's there, Petunia?" A different voice called out.

Vernon bustled towards them, looking shocked and angry. "And who are _you_, man? How dare you enter-"

"I let him in, Vernon. He's-he's here to say something." Petunia looked distraught. She eyed Snape who was easily taller than Vernon, and was looking at him with ill-disguised anger.

"I wanted to talk with you, Mr Dursley. It is about Harry Potter,"

A series of emotions flitted through Uncle Vernon's face all at once: shock, anger, bewilderment and fear.

"Oh?" He tried to look intimidating but Snape did not flinch.

"Yes," he said waspishly. "So, if you do not mind, I would like to ask if-"

"'Course I mind! You lot can't just barge into my house and-and run a questionnaire-"

"Nor can you abuse a child."

_That_ was unexpected. Snape didn't know where that had come out from. He wasn't even entirely _sure_ that Harry had been abused. It had sort of slipped out from his mouth. Why did he care about Potter anyway?

"I-I haven't-look here, it was for his own good! The boy's unstable and dangerous!"

"So you admit to have struck this boy? Left welts and marks?" Snape felt his fury uncoiling. His gaze seemed to frighten the husband and wife, because Petunia suddenly cried out in a shrilly voice: "It was nothing serious! Why did you leave him here with us in the first place? Why do you care now?"

"He is the son of your _sister_, unless you forget, Mrs Dursley," Snape's voice was low and dangerous. "Are you telling me that you have always despised your nephew?"

Before Petunia, white and shaky, could answer, Uncle Vernon boomed, "He has been nothing but trouble! In fact, we've been doing you lot a favor!"

"Right," Snape looked furious. He had all the proof he needed now. "I will not tolerate this. You will both be punished. I do not," Snape said, as Uncle Vernon opened his mouth. "Care about your notions about how children should be disciplined." His hand closed around something in his jacket pocket and it was rather evident to everyone as to what it was.

Petunia gave a kind of squeak but Snape did not intend to use his wand. Not yet anyway. "I will leave this for Professor Dumbledore to handle." he said, calmly. "Potter is currently living with me. I assure you that he will not be returning here anytime soon." He looked at the front door. "I will be going now. This conversation is not over yet. Be warned, I _will_ make sure that there is some punishment for this,"

Something about the mock expression on his usually blank face was unsettling. As Petunia and Uncle Vernon saw him leave the house, Snape smirked in contentment.

Oh, they would suffer. Not because he cared if Potter was hurt or was disgusted by his relatives, but because he hated them for doing this to Lily. To her child.

He took out his wand and waved it at the now closed door, casting a silent spell. Yes, anyone who did such a thing deserved to be punished. And they _would_ be.

Those relatives were nearly as bad as his father had been to him.

...

Harry was annoyed. Why did he have to stay in his room? What had he done? Snape was just like the Dursleys. Locking him up for no apparent reason.

Harry waited and waited and then stared out of the window for a while. Then he waited some more. Where was he? Was he supposed to _sleep_? He hadn't even had dinner! Was Snape not going to give him any?

He waited on the bed for a while and then suddenly heard the front door open. He hurriedly crept to his bedroom door and listened intently, pressing his ear to the wood.

He could hear a few footsteps, a rustle of robes and then...

Three crisp knocks on his door!

Harry jumped back, frightened. Then, summoning courage, he opened it.

Snape stood there, still in his traveling cloak. Harry opened his mouth but the man beat him to it.

"Potter, we have to talk."

What _else_ was there? Snape was looking rather tired and...and anxious. Harry didn't know what to say. Yes sir?

"Sure," he said, in what he hoped was a nonchalant tone.

Snape sat down on his bed, wrinkling his nose, and Harry sat down in front of him, several inches away.

Snape took a deep breath, and Harry bit his lip in apprehension.

"I went to visit your relatives recently."

* * *

**Ending Notes:- **Action and angst coming soon. Sorry for the short chapter. Hope you liked it. I'm _also_ sorry for the rant in my beginning notes. I accidentally read a severe report of Snape (written _before_ the seventh book came out) and got rather upset. I get dramatic sometimes. Sorry :P


	4. Tears and Fever

**A/N:- **You guys are flipping amazing! A few minutes after posting Chapter 3, I suddenly got loads of reviews! I love all of you :D Here are the answers to two questions I found in the reviews:

**Why is Snape's house big and grand?:** I'm sorry. I _did_ read the Spinner's End chapter, it's one of my favorites. But, call it AU, but I didn't think a small and dismal house was really good for the plot of this story. I've used the Spinner's End house in my story _Abandoned_ though. And in this story, I've kind of made Snape _buy _a new house with some money. Maybe with his mother's will? His teaching fees?

**Snape's too verbally abusive?: **Uh, I guess so. I kind of wrote mean!Snape in my summary so if thats too scary for you, don't read. That's kind of what makes Snape...well, Snape. I'll try writing the story more convincingly, though.

The reviews are really encouraging. Thanks again, and enjoy! I'm REALLY sorry for my stupid and speedy way of writing. I'm going to make my style more sensible and understandable. Please review.

**Warning for this** **Chapter:** A few stern swats.

**DISCLAIMER:- **I just like playing in the Harry Potter universe.

* * *

**The Light In The Darkness**

**Four**

Harry toyed with his hands as he sat down at breakfast. He wasn't hungry. Far from that. He was simply shocked.

Last night, Snape had told him that he had gone to the Dursleys and had asked him about his bruises. It had been rather unsettling, and when Snape had said: "Don't worry, Potter, they will be punished," he had nearly passed out from shock.

Harry looked down at his sunny-side up egg from the corner of his eye. It was exactly how he liked his egg. He could smell the toast, the wonderful sausages, the glass of milk, the bacon. He wanted to gobble down his breakfast but he _couldn't. _Nothing made sense to him anymore. Snape was reading a wizarding newspaper, not looking at him, and yet Harry felt that the man could sense his uncomfortableness.

"Potter," Snape said suddenly. "Eat..._Now_. I do hope you are not complaining about the food."

"No, sir. I'm just...not that hungry," Harry mumbled, cheeks burning.

"I insist that you at least finish your egg and glass of milk."

"But-" Harry didn't know he had dared. The look Snape gave him the second he said 'but' could have melted stone.

He heaved a sigh and took small bites of his egg. He was awfully worried. What was going to happen to him? Why was Snape suddenly acting human? Was he going to stay in the man's house for the rest of his life?

Harry gulped and the egg stuck in his throat. He raised the glass of milk to his face and sipped. His appetite had suddenly vanished.

Snape sighed audibly. "Potter, what is it this time?"

"What?" Harry nearly choked on his milk, startled.

"You're behaving as if someone died. What's wrong?"

"N-nothing," Harry mumbled.

Was Snape actually asking him what was wrong? Gaaaahhh, why wasn't it the end of the world?

"Why are refusing breakfast? You usually eat ravenously." Snape sounded irate.

"I do not." Harry frowned. When had he ever eaten ravenously?

Snape looked tired. "Potter, eat-or I am going to have to punish you,"

Harry wanted to retort, but he bit his lip and speared his sausage with force. His life was seriously up-side down now. It was hard to believe that things would ever be normal for him again.

...

Harry felt pretty drowsy and languid as he pulled the comforter over the sheets and made his bed. He felt strangely warm and his throat felt funny. Almost as if he were sick.

But he couldn't be sick. There was no reason for him to be. What would happen if Snape found out? The man would make out that he was nothing but a silly baby and leave him be.

Harry gulped, his throat feeling scratchy and awful. He felt so sleepy. He longed to pull the covers over himself and sleep the day away, but he couldn't. Snape had ordered him to weed the garden beds and then have his healing potion.

Harry bit back a whimper and walked out of his room. He passed by the kitchen when he reached downstairs, and saw Snape using his wand to cook a meal.

"P-professor?" Harry asked, meekly.

"What is it, Potter?" Snape spoke without turning, in a bored voice.

Harry gulped, trying to stand still without drooping too much. "Can I have a glass of water?"

...

Harry couldn't weed very well-in fact he hardly did any beds. When Snape called him in, he looked stern at the lack of work but fortunately didn't say anything.

"Drink this and then you will have your lunch," Snape ordered, handing Harry a potion.

Harry grimaced at the potion and drank it. Then he shuddered. Ooh, it tasted awful!

When Harry sat at the table for lunch, he couldn't believe how much food Snape had prepared. But he didn't want any of it. He could barely stay awake and all this food was torture.

"We're going to get some meat on your bones," Snape looked at him in distaste. "Do not waste anything,"

Harry tried to take as little portions as he could-just pieces of bread and only spoonfuls of rice. A single piece of salmon and no greens.

Snape did not approve. He kept shooting disproving glances at Harry, and Harry could bet anything that the man wanted nothing more than to punish him for eating so little, but was trying to restrain himself. His bruises must have hit Snape hard.

After lunch, Harry got up, moaning and feeling his forehead. Maybe he _did_ have a fever. Oh, what was he going to do?

Harry hurriedly went into his room to rest a bit. Maybe a good nap would fix him-but Snape grabbed his arm. "Where do you think you're going, Potter? I clearly remember telling you that you had to...what's wrong with you?"

"Nothing," Harry sneezed.

Snape looked exceedingly stern and forced Harry down on a nearby sofa and then felt his forehead.

"You're burning up," Snape muttered, looking surprised. "How long have you been ill?"

"I'm not ill," Harry protested, weakly.

"I am in no mood for games, Potter. Answer the question-how long have you been ill?"

"I-for some hours," Harry gave in. "But I'm fine. Just a little warm after the shower, I guess."

Snape did not even acknowledge that with an answer. "Why didn't you tell me?" He demanded.

"Because it's nothing, honest-I'm fine!"

"Potter, you have most obviously gotten a fever-for no reason at all." Snape looked furious. "You are _not_ fine. You're going to bed,"

Later, Harry would think how stupid he had been at this moment. He could have been a good boy and meekly gone to bed like Snape had said, but no-his pride just _had_ to kick in and remind him that this was his most hated Professor and that he didn't have to obey his every word.

"Why don't you just leave me alone?" Harry shouted. "I don't need your help-you're just a greasy, interfering _git_! I _said_ I'm fine, so just drop it, alright?"

Harry couldn't believe Snape could do such a thing when he was so sick.

The man looked livid, pulling him up from the sofa roughly. Harry stumbled a bit, and then, much to his horror, Snape turned him around so that he could deliver two sharp smacks on his rear end.

"O-ow!" Harry yelped, eyes watering, much to his horror. It hurt so much that he couldn't stand it.

"Don't you ever talk to me like that," Snape hissed. "I've been lenient with you Potter, but if you don't compose yourself _now_, I will take you over my knee, sick or not."

"I'm sorry," Harry gasped. He was shocked how easily the words had come out of his mouth. "Please,"

Snape gave him one last smack, which nearly took all the breath out of his body, and then straightened him, turning him around.

Harry's eyes were watering, his mouth trembling. His bottom ached and he wanted to rub at it.

"You will go to your room as I said. Now!"

Harry ran, not eager to anger Snape any further.

He went into his room, climbing hurriedly onto his bed. A few minutes later, Snape entered too, looking very bad-tempered. He was holding a few vials of potions.

He walked to the bed, setting the bottles down on the side table.

Harry was trying his best not to cry. The back of his throat was burning with unshed tears and his mouth was trembling.

"Drink this," Snape snapped shortly, handing him a vial of potion and taking out a thermometer from his coat pocket.

Harry drank, shuddering at the taste.

"Stay still," Snape ordered as he tapped the little thermometer on Harry's head. His dark eyes scanned the numbers which magically appeared on it.

"A little over a hundred," Snape muttered. "You'll have to stay in bed for the whole of today, at least."

He handed Harry another vial of liquid, and the boy spoke up meekly: "What's this, sir?"

"Medicine, obviously. Hopefully it will get rid of your fever. I don't have the patience to tend to a sick child." Snape said, harshly.

Harry swallowed. It wasn't _his_ fault he had gotten sick. And then he realized why Snape was acting so irritable.

"I'm sorry for saying that...that stuff earlier. I didn't think." Harry couldn't believe he was actually apologizing to Snape.

"Don't let it happen again. I won't be as lenient next time." Snape didn't acknowledge his apology properly and Harry felt a sudden pang of anger and disappointment.

He felt Snape watch him pointedly, waiting for him to drink the potion. Harry obliged and Snape took the bottle out of his hand.

"Rest," he said, walking to the door. "I'll bring in some lunch for you later." He turned to Harry, the hatred which had lessened considerably over the hours, back-and suddenly Harry felt awful. It was as if Snape was furious for having to tend to him.

"Yes, sir," Harry said, hoarsely. The feeling of loneliness and the insecurity that no one cared for him arose inside.

He wanted Dumbledore to speak to him kindly, maybe even Ron or Hermione to say something nice to him. Just not Snape. He didn't want Snape, with his hooked nose and greasy black hair, to swoop around him, showing him just how much he hated him.

The man may have saved his life, but he loathed him too.

Well, fine. Harry hated him too.

...

"Please," Harry croaked when Snape woke him up some time later for lunch.

"Potter!" Snape sounded livid. "I have been waiting for the better part of five minutes. Wake up. You have to eat to keep your strength,"

"Not hungry," Harry whispered, drowsily. His head hurt, his throat hurt, he felt as if he was burning.

"I don't want to have to punish you while you are sick," Snape's cold, low voice wasn't helping. "Sit up, Potter...Now!"

Harry winced and pushed himself into a sitting position, his head heavy. Snape was sitting at the edge of the bed. There was a tray on the side table.

Harry's head nearly lolled on Snape's chest, he was that sleepy-but he tried to regain his strength and look up properly.

"Please, sir. I'm not hungry." Harry pleaded.

"You're not to argue with me," Snape frowned at him. He picked up the tray and laid it on Harry's lap. "Eat, Potter. Then you can go back to sleep,"

Harry wanted to sob in distress but he picked up the spoon and had small spoonfuls of soup. There was bread and greens on the plate too. That wasn't too much to eat surely?

Harry tried to chew, but everything tasted bitter and wrong.

Snape left mid-meal and came back a while later, only to find Harry's eyes closed and the food still there, on his lap.

"You insolent brat!" Snape hissed, causing Harry to flinch and nearly scald himself with the soup.

"You impertinent, disobedient child! What did I tell you?" Snape'a face was flushing unpleasantly.

Harry shot him a dirty look and wearily began to eat again. He saw a cloth in the man's hand, from the corner of his eyes.

After he was finally done with the food, Snape laid the cloth on Harry's forehead, pushing his head back on the pillow.

"Sleep," Snape ordered, and his voice wafted through Harry's ears, strangely making him sleepy. "This cloth with help cool your fever down. Do not move it. Close your eyes and go to sleep,"

Harry's eyes fluttered close. He heard Snape move away and then everything went black.

...

Harry felt someone remove something from his forehead, feeling his cheeks. Harry wanted to flinch away but the touch was so cool and gentle...

And then he felt the same someone push him to a sitting position with rough force.

"Eh?" Harry was surprised. He blinked and Snape came into focus, holding a bottle of brownish potion.

"You need to have your medicine, Potter. Drink up," Snape forced the vial through his mouth, making him splutter.

"There." Snape sounded satisfied. He took out a thermometer from his pocket and tapped it on Harry's head again.

"What's it say?" Harry asked, weakly.

Snape's eye-brows were raised. "Ninety nine. Still a fever. Go back to sleep,"

But Harry was tired of sleeping. "Can't I have some water?"

"There's a jug of water on the side table. And a glass," Snape said, his voice betraying hints of disgust.

Harry swallowed the lump in his throat. After a moment of silence, he whispered: "Why are you taking care of me?"

"Excuse me?"

"If you h-hate me so much, then why're you bothering to cure me?" Harry demanded, his voice croaky and indignant. "I don't need your help."

"As stupid as you are, Potter, I do hope you remember signing the guardianship sheet?"

"Yeah I do...So?"

"_So_, I am your guardian for the summer. As you are currently my ward, I have to tend to your mental and physical health, it is my responsibility. Furthermore, I do not enjoy having sick and irritable children in my house."

"Yeah, well," Harry didn't know what to say. "Why _did_ you sign that sheet? You hate everything about me. I'm surprised you haven't chucked me back to Dumbledore already."

"As tempting as that sounds, Potter, my orders are to keep you safe for the summer and ensure that you are alive by the end of the holidays. I am sure I can handle that, even if you get into more trouble than is humanely possible."

"Like what?" Harry asked, rebelliously. "I never get into much trouble."

"Who fought Quirell? The whole school knows about that. It was what gave Gryffindor the extra points for no reason at all," Snape sounded bitter. "You're Dumbledore's golden boy, the famous Boy-Who-Lived. Arrogant brat. I'm going to make it a point to show you where you really stand this summer."

Harry felt his eyes prick. "I'm not arrogant."

"Aren't you, Potter? Stop arguing with me now, you're supposed to be sleeping."

"I'm not." Harry insisted. "Bad things happen to me, too."

Snape sneered.

Harry couldn't believe it. He had lost his parents and had been bruised by his relatives, who hated him. Just because he had won Gryffindor a few points didn't mean he was anything special. It didn't mean he had a great, easy life.

"You don't know anything about me," Harry huffed. "You think my life's perfect? Well it's not. And I don't want to live here if you want to 'show me where I stand and stuff'." Really this man was hardly any better than uncle Vernon. "I hate you, I'll go anywhere else pbut here,"

"You've got nowhere else to go," Snape sneered at him.

"Yes I do! Ron said last term that I could come over to his house for the summer." Harry protested.

"Your relatives hate you and you haven't heard from that idiot at all. I don't understand what you think of yourself, Potter." Snape jeered. "Now go to sleep, stop pestering me with your inane arguments...What's wrong now?"

Tears were suddenly spilling over Harry's cheeks. Snape was right-Ron didn't care about him. He hadn't heard from him at all or even from Hermione. He had no one-No one really liked him, he was all alone and was always going to be.

Harry's shoulders were shaking with sobs, and it felt slightly good to let all the grief out. He didn't care if Snape was watching or that the man would never let him live this down. He just wanted it all to be over.

"Stop it! What's wrong with you now?" Snape's voice was harsh and indignant. "Are you actually _crying_?"

"N-nooo," Harry sobbed.

"Potter, that's enough. There's no reason to get so worked up about." Snape sounded irate.

"I don't want to-" Harry struggled to get a hold of himself. He felt a strong arm shaking his bicep and he broke into fresh tears.

Snape looked exasperated. "This may be the fever, or this may be the famous Potter throwing one of his signature tantrums. Either way, I want you to stop it at once or I will give you something to really cry about,"

"I c-can't. I don't want to s-stay here-I want to g-go back to Hogwarts!" He was sure that Snape would suddenly turn him face-down on the bed and deliver a few irritated smacks, and he also knew that he would never be able to stop crying. He would cry and cry and cry until the room filled with tears and he drowned in it, certain that no one loved him.

And then he felt Snape wiping the tears from his eyes with a summoned handkerchief, whispering to him to calm down.

And he felt even worse. And so confused. Was Snape really trying to calm him down? Wasn't the sight of him sobbing, some kind of joyful entertainment for him?

"Hush, Potter, be quiet. There's no reason to carry on so. Just calm down. Take deep breaths."

Harry tried to breathe, as Snape had suggested, but then be started coughing violently. He was going to choke to death on his own tears, quite an embarrassing way to die for the Boy-Who-Lived.

And then Harry felt his back being patted, with a little more force than he would have liked.

"That's enough. Calm _down. _It's alright, Potter. There nothing to cry about."

"I-" Harry felt shocked. He hiccuped and stared up with tearful eyes at the man he hated. Severus Snape was looking right back at him-but there was no hatred on his face, no loathing, no disgust.

Just a stern expression full of concern, as if he was actually worried.

And Harry wanted to break apart into tiny pieces right that moment, because he didn't want comfort or concern, he wanted to be punished and hurt. And yet, he felt himself leaning into the touches of the handkerchief and calming down.

"I'm sorry," he choked out, weakly. "I didn't mean to cry. I don't know what's w-wrong with me,"

To his horror, Snape looked at him blankly for a second and then said: "It's alright. I think you and me need to have a little talk,"

* * *

**Ending Notes:- **I hope you liked it. Hope it's not as bad as I think it is. I'll update soon. Stay tuned! I'm going to try and improve my writing style.


	5. The Photo

**A/N:- **Sorry for taking so long to post. School has started again. I'm doing a thorough clean-up of my account, deleting lame stories and fixing typos. I only get a few hours in evening for the computer, the amount of homework is _enormous_.

I. Freaking. _Love. _You guys! I didn't know my story was that good, and the reviews are realllyyyy sweet. I may reply to a few of them in my A/N. Here are some replies:

**[Briella]: **Thanks :D

**[RussetFire]: **You made my day! Thank you soooo much for your review.

**[Delenda est c]: **Glad you liked it :)

**[T. H. Enesley]: **Shaking a child 'until their teeth rattle' is just a way of speaking, dude. _Why_ would anyone rather have third-degree burns and bruises instead? And you stated that Chapter 4 is like Chapter 1-how...? And what do you mean by "too much circle thinking,"? Please be more specific. Hope you like the next chapters, though.

**[Luiz4200]: **Mm, thanks!

**Warning for the Chapter: **One swat.

**DISCLAIMER:- **I don't own anything.

* * *

**The Light In The Darkness**

**Five**

"What'd you mean?" Harry was nervous.

"I want to know why you burst out in tears."

"You were...you were taunting me." Harry felt himself blush.

"I don't think that's the reason. I know there's something else-So spit it out. Now."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Harry said, coldly.

Snape looked at him for a moment and then took out his wand. "I give you a last warning, Potter. We could do this the hard way, after all."

Was Snape actually going to hex him? Before Harry could protest or even better, jump off the bed and make a run for it, Snape had jabbed his wand at him.

"_Legilimens!" _he hissed.

Various scenes flitted through Harry's mind: being locked in his cupboard, begging Aunt Petunia for food, hiding from Dudley, receiving the fifty-pence piece for Christmas...

And then Snape drew out of his mind.

Harry felt himself breathing heavily and pushing back sobs. "I hate you!" He screamed at Snape.

Snape was looking rather stunned. "Potter-"

"Get away from me!" Harry shuffled behind, away from the man. "How dare you!-I _hate_ you!"

"Potter, stop it!" Snape lunged at him, pulling him towards himself. Harry felt his arms being held together in Snape's hands and he couldn't pull away-Snape was way stronger than him.

He felt tears stinging in his eyes at the prospect of the gloating he would soon endure at Snape's hands, but the man only shook his head. "Calm down, Potter. There is no need to make such a fuss of everything,"

"What did you do to me?" Harry demanded.

Snape's intoxicatingly-black eyes narrowed. "I only went through your memories using Legilimency."

"What _is_ Legilimency?"

"All that later," Snape said, firmly. "What was that dark room you were being shoved into?"

Harry swallowed. "M-my cupboard,"

"Your cupboard?" Snape looked confused.

"I used to sleep there before I got my letter from Hogwarts," Harry said in a very small voice.

"I see." Snape's face was unreadable. The man understood how Harry felt. Any child would feel like that, without any love, without a family.

He took a deep breath. "I suggest you go back to sleep, Potter."

Harry stared. That was it? No taunting, no gloating? And why did Snape look so startled? It made no sense.

"Now!" Snape raised his voice, and Harry hurriedly hid in the covers.

"Don't bother waking up until I say so," Snape told him. But despite the roughness, Harry felt Snape re-adjust the cloth on his forehead and get up from his bed. He saw the man stare at him for a few moments, and then leave the room.

...

"Your fever is decreasing," Snape informed him, in a soft voice, feeling Harry's pale cheeks gingerly. "You should be completely fine by tomorrow,"

Harry did not reply. He was pointedly ignoring Snape.

"I understand how you are feeling, Potter, but I detest pouting,"

Harry sniffed, not caring.

Snape gave up and straightened. "Rest-if you happen to need me, call for me. Do not get up. I hope I make myself clear?"

Harry snorted. Snape frowned, but he took that as a yes.

"Alright then," The man sighed, heading towards the door.

"Sod off,"

Snape turned around, perplexed. "Excuse me?"

"I told you to sod off," Harry said, quietly. His voice was shaky with fear and emotion. "I hate you."

Snape felt his temper rising. He swept over to the bed, glaring down at the boy. "You _ungrateful_ brat. I _heal_ you, I keep you in my house, I give you a place to stay and I actually _feed_ you. You're just like your stubborn father-_insufferable_. If I dare hear such language again I will take you over my knee and summon a switch."

Harry stared at him, tears gathering in his eyes. "And then you'll beat me, eh? Like my relatives?"

Snape froze. After a few moments, he forced himself to answer, "Your relatives punished you for unfair circumstances. What I will make you go through will be very fair and deserved. Do you understand?"

"No."

"You don't have to," Snape sneered.

Harry squeezed his eyes shut, feeling miserable. "Sometimes I wish that...that I were just dead,"

Harry had not considered such a response.

"If I ever hear you uttering those words again, I will _make sure_ you never sit comfortably again in your life. Is that _clear_, Potter?" Snape demanded, suddenly white with fury.

Harry gaped at him, startled.

Snape took hold of his shoulder and squeezed forcefully. "_Don't_ force me to be more severe with you. I am at the limit of my tolerance, anyhow."

Snape watched Harry's face crumple at the harshness. Soft tears rolled down the red cheeks and Harry nodded hastily. "Yes, s-s-ir. Please,"

Snape felt suddenly awkward. He didn't know what to do with crying children. Yes, he could teach, discipline, lecture...-but he could not comfort.

He watched as Harry struggled with his eyes, his chest heaving with every breath.

"Potter..." Snape protested, weakly. The boy really was an emotional wreck.

Harry didn't know why he cried so easily when he was near Snape. "Don't p-punish me. I'm _sorry_," the eleven-year old begged.

"Calm down, Potter. I'm not going to punish you," Snape insisted. He swallowed. "Oh for Merlin's sake...that's _enough_,"

Harry felt himself being shifted slightly closer to the man, the thin, cool fingers brushing off his tears and telling him not to cry, that there was no _reason_ to cry.

"Don't touch me!" Harry shrieked, flinching as he felt another tear brushed off. "I hate you!"

Snape stiffened, suddenly looking ugly and cold.

"Do you imagine that I find _you_ likable, Potter?" He hissed. "Do not test my patience-just shut up for once,"

_No one_ found him likable. He was just a piece of trash for everyone. Harry wiped off his tears and glared, "I'm fine. So you can just go now,"

"Enough of your cheek!"

"I only give you as much as you deserve," Harry sneered.

SMACK!

Harry hadn't expected it, hadn't anticipated it. He was _sick_, for God's sake. But Snape seemed to have lost his temper at last.

"Ah!" Harry spluttered, leaning his face against the pillow. He had suddenly been turned around to face it so that Snape could swat him.

"I trust there will be no more disrespect," Snape was breathing heavily. He swept out of the room without another word.

Harry stared at the door, his hand rubbing unconsciously at the sore patch. After a while he finally confirmed it that his life couldn't get any worse.

...

Dinner.

He didn't want dinner.

And he especially didn't want Snape.

Harry watched as Snape put a tray of food on his table. But the man did not linger. He didn't even look at Harry or talk to him. He just went away.

_Looks like he's still mad,_ Harry thought_._

Harry didn't want to eat. He took small bites and then slept, sure Snape would come up to his room to reprimand him for disobeying. But Snape did not come.

Several minutes passed but Snape did not return.

Harry glared at his half-empty glass of water. Why wasn't Snape coming? Why wasn't he coming to check his fever, or-or seeing if he was eating?

Oh, why did he even _care_? The man was a _git, _smacking him and being such a ruddy _bat_. Harry, inwardly, knew that he had deserved that swat for his rudeness, but he did not like to admit it.

He waited for a few more minutes and then fell asleep.

...

Snape still hadn't come. The tray was still here, too. That was odd. Harry felt his mouth go dry. Was Snape alright?

"Snape?" He croaked.

No answer.

Maybe the man was giving him the cold-shoulder treatment on purpose. Well, FINE. He didn't care.

...

Argh! Why wasn't the man coming, even to just take away the tray?

Harry felt warm and ill and exasperated. Making a risky choice, he got off the bed weakly and shuffled towards the door.

He padded around the house, curious and frightened. Maybe Snape had gotten hurt?

"Potter!"

Harry jumped and turned, watching as Snape glared at him. "What in Merlin are you doing here? How dare you leave the bed!"

"I-I was looking for you,"

"What do you want now?" Snape demanded.

Harry's lip trembled. "I just wanted to...to know if my temperature was gone."

"It won't be if you keep pulling that cloth off your forehead! Get back to your room this instant!" and with that Snape dragged him back to his room and forced him on the bed.

"The next time you dare get up," Snape said dangerously. "I will tie you down to the bed."

"I just wanted to find you," Harry felt himself on the verge of tears, much to his dismay. Not again!

"The less we see each other the more tolerable the summer will be for us," Snape snapped. "Now be quiet and got to sleep,"

Harry whimpered, piteously. Snape didn't want to see him? Why did Snape hate him so much? Why did _everyone_ hate him?

"Yes, sir," Harry whispered. "'M sorry,"

Snape stared down at the small boy, sneered cruelly, and left.

Harry wanted to rip his hair out in confusion and distress.

...

The next day Harry still felt weary but also a little better. Snape was quick to tell him that he would be completely healed by the end of the day.

The man had popped into his room in the morning, ordering him to wake up. Snape had proceeded to give him some breakfast.

Harry was glad that Snape was still talking to him. He was lonely enough in the house. And though he hated the man with every fiber of his being, he felt safer near him.

By midday, Harry was reading a book Snape had lent him and by evening, he was begging the man to let him leave the bed.

"Have your medicine, first," Snape insisted, pushing the bottle towards Harry.

Harry didn't want any yucky potions. He just wanted to get up.

"I don't want it," he grimaced.

"Pardon?"

"I hate your potions. They taste awful,"

Snape glared at him. "Be that as it may, Potter, but I insist that you have it or you can remain lying in your bed. The choice is yours," He raised an eye-brow in a challenge and Harry frowned back.

A few seconds passed and Harry suddenly realised that he could not win this.

"Fine," he muttered mutinously, taking the potion.

Snape smirked. "I don't want you disobeying me, Potter-I thought that was one of the ground rules under my roof. Now hurry up and rest awhile. If I feel you are behaving, I _may_ let you leave your room,"

Harry gaped at these unfair proceedings but he figured that if he obeyed Snape, he'd get what he wanted faster.

Somehow this did not feel as difficult as it had felt before. He nearly felt _comfortable_ listening to Snape. And then he realized that the greasy git was just his least-favorite teacher and hated his guts just as much as he did.

Sighing, Harry wished that he hadn't been stuck with such a complicated person.

...

Harry grinned helplessly as he sat at the dinner table, ecstatic at being allowed to get up again. The fever had been a small one and he felt much better now. Maybe the potions had sped up the fever?

It didn't matter now, though. Everything tasted nearly normal again and Harry waited for Snape to come at the table too.

He could smell something nice cooking.

He barely ate anything at the Dursleys. Snape was exactly the opposite-he _forced_ him to eat to 'get some meat on those bones' and Harry was only to happy to comply. He stared at his clear plate impatiently.

A few minutes later, Snape came into the Dining Room, frowning at him dourly. He sat on his chair, which was further away from Harry's and said: "You will have a large portion of food today, Potter. I don't want you falling sick again. Well, what are you waiting for? Start eating."

Harry spooned stew onto his plate and for a while, several moments passed like this, peaceful and quiet.

"I wanted to speak to you about your disrespect," Snape said, suddenly.

Harry sat up, rigidly. "I'm sorry for saying those-those stuff I said earlier," he said hastily.

"I'm glad you are, but I won't as lenient with you as I was when you were sick. I want you to take out whatever holiday assignments you have received and start working on them. It will keep you busy for the next hour. I will be going out on some business."

"What business?"

"It is rude to ask," Snape looked extremely disapproving. "It is none of your concern,"

"Oh. Okay. So, should I start Potions first?"

"Whichever you like," Snape said, carelessly. "As long as you do it,"

"Okay."

Snape made a soft sound of impatience.

Harry really didn't want to upset the man further. He was going to be left alone for a whole hour or more! "I mean...yes, sir," Harry grinned, sheepishly. "I'll start my homework right away,"

...

"I'll be fine," Harry said again.

"I mean it, Potter. I don't want you to leave your room at all. I warn you now that I will punish you most severely if you do anything to my house."

"Yes, sir," Harry said, impatiently.

"I will be back soon." Snape was still looking at him with mistrust. "I expect you to behave."

"I _will_," Harry insisted.

"Alright, then," Snape looked annoyed.

When he had gone, Harry looked out of his room and grinned. He was going to have lots of fun while Snape was out.

...

"You called for me, Headmaster?" Snape asked as he entered Dumbledore's living room. He sat down on the sofa and looked at Dumbledore expectantly.

"Did you pay a visit to the Dursleys, Severus?" Dumbledore asked, rather abruptly.

"Yes, I did," Snape said, nonchalantly.

"What did you do to them?" Dumbledore looked concerned.

Snape raised an eye-brow. "Excuse me?"

"There are reports of a spell cast on them. What did you do?"

Snape smirked faintly. "Nothing much, Dumbledore. It was a just Depression Jinx. They won't be feeling too happy any time soon."

"But why-"

"They abused Potter, Dumbledore. Surely they deserve it?" Snape's voice was rising.

Dumbledore smiled tightly. "It seems you have started to care for the boy,"

Snape snorted. "Not _him_, I assure you. I just didn't want her son to suffer. It is my duty to keep him safe-I am merely fulfilling it."

...

Harry stared at the door of Snape's bedroom. It was forbidden, it was forbidden, it was _forbidden_...He couldn't go in, Snape would _kill_ him. Yet, Harry needed to. His homework assignment had flown under the door. So, breathing deeply, Harry opened the door cautiously, as if expecting something to attack him.

Then he stared.

The room was ordinary and very Snape-ish. If that was something.

The walls were a shade of green. The king-size bed had dark green covers and sheets and black pillows and there was a serpent engraved on the headboard. There were two side-tables, a green lamp on one. The side table was strewn with books and papers and quills. There was a small desk with a chair, a rug on the floor and green curtains. Harry walkedfurther inside and saw an untidy shelf too, and a cabinet labelled: "IMPORTANT VIALS" in spiky writing, whatever that meant. There was also a small wardrobe, probably containing all of Snape's black robes and boots and stuff.

Then Harry saw the small set of drawers. Books were on top of it. Harry didn't want to see what was inside, however tempting. Probably just more clothes. He went to pick up his sheet, which had went under the bed. As he bent down to get it, his hand brushed against another paper-he could hear vague voices from it and he suddenly flinched. He held it and sat up, leaning against the bed. It was a photo, a _moving_ photo.

The people in the photo were unrecognizable. They were tall, which showed that they were at least 13 or 14 years old. The colour of the photo was in black-and-white. There was a girl and a boy sitting together on the grass, grinning excitedly at something in front of them. The girl had her arm around his, and was leaning on the boy's shoulder in a mock pose. He was blushing all the same, his eyes wide with some kind of innocence. His dark hair was lank and fell over his face. The girl's hair was thick and slightly waved.

_They're looking at a camera_, Harry figured. _Testing it out._

They looked happy and innocent and Harry enjoyed looking at them. They did nothing but sit and laugh and occasionally look at each other. And then the spell on Harry broke off and he bent and took his homework assignment paper from under the bed.

Who were they? The boy and the girl? The boy looked nothing like Snape did-he looked far too happy, his face less gaunt, less haunted. His eyes had a dark look, but they were still happy. Snape's eyes were dead and they reminded him of never-ending tunnels. Harry got up and left the room, before Snape came back. He hoped in his heart that Snape wouldn't find out that he had been in there. The man certainly wouldn't be happy to know that he had rifled in his private things.

* * *

**Ending Notes:- **Hope you guys liked it :) To be continued!


	6. Slight Tenderness

**A/N:- **I'm extremely pissed off at the moment but I took time to write another chapter. And if anyone has ANYTHING bad to say about Snape, don't bother reviewing because it's getting a little too hard to stomach at the moment. And please, for the sake of Merlin, stop exaggerating his bullying. I heard somewhere that people claimed he wanted to poison Harry for fun. The heck? God, READ THE BOOKS. He was a spiteful and a rather unlikable teacher but I'm pretty sure that he didn't try to kill the students or anything like most of you imply. And you know that book-Harry says ill of EVERYONE he dislikes. One second he likes Cedric but when he finds out that the guy is going to the Yule Ball with Cho, he suddenly thinks of him as a useless pretty-boy. It's written in the book.

**DISCLAIMER:- **I don't own Harry Potter or anything related to it.

**Warning for the Chapter:- **None.

* * *

**The Light in The Darkness**

**Six**

Harry began to grow more used to Snape. In fact, the man didn't seem half as scary anymore. He began to be more grateful of everything Snape did for him-Snape fed him adequately, Snape didn't make him do chores all day, Snape didn't shout at him for no reason.

In fact, the man hardly spoke to him anymore. They met at mealtimes but that was it.

Harry began to feel very bored and lonely...

One day, as he sat on his bed, languidly doing his Charms homework, he saw Snape pass by the door and disappear. Harry huffed. He wanted the man to talk to him...about _anything, _as long as he just _did._

After a while of moping, Harry crept out of his room and went to the living room. He saw Snape looking extremely tired, sitting on the sofa, shuffling through files.

"Sn-er, sir?" Harry blurted before he could stop himself.

Snape looked up at him. They stared at each other for a while before Snape said, "Come here,"

Harry's heart pounded as he nervously made his way to the sofa and sat down gingerly.

"Potter...I would like to express my apologies for entering your mind the other day," Snape said, awkwardly. "I should have known that it was private."

"It-it doesn't matter," Harry squeaked, hastily.

Snape sighed and there was a pause. "I was...under the impression that my room was rifled with. Did you go in there?"

"N-no," The lie slipped out brokenly, and Harry's cheeks flushed. He couldn't keep a secret from Snape for long and he knew that he would be punished extra for lying. But yet, he couldn't bring himself to tell the truth.

"Are you sure about that?" Snape's eyes bored into his and Harry flinched. The gaze was much too intense and he suddenly burbled out: "I did, I'm sorry, I'm sorry! I didn't mean it, it's just that my essay flew in through the door, please don't be mad, sir, I-"

"Calm down," Snape said, cuttingly. Harry froze, fear showing plainly in his eyes.

"In normal circumstances you would have been in trouble, seeing as I had told you quite plainly that my room was off-limits," Snape's eyes were glinting with anger and Harry felt his throat constrict. "And you lied to me when I first asked you. But I'm letting it go this time. So I'd appreciate it if you stoped trembling,"

Harry realised that he was shaking. He flushed again and stopped himself. "I'm sorry, sir,"

"Did you go through my things?"

"No, sir," Harry said, honestly.

_Except that I saw that photo._

But Harry was not stupid and he didn't mention it.

"Right. Good. You can go now,"

"Oh," Harry looked disappointed. He had never been hugged in his life except maybe by his parents when he had been younger and thinking about Snape hugging him suddenly made him laugh. He bit his tongue on the giggle.

Snape turned his gaze away from him and Harry suddenly said: "I'm bored,"

At first time seemed to stop. Harry was afraid for a moment that he had gone too far but Snape simply stared at him.

"What?" He asked, blankly.

"There's not much to do, sir. Couldn't I stay here with you? I won't be a bother, honest."

"And your homework?"

"I've finished most of Transfiguration and I stared on Charms so I thought..."

"What will you do, watching me?"

Harry immediately looked contrite. "I'm sorry sir, I didn't mean to interfere. I'll go back to my-" He half-stood but Snape stopped him.

"You don't need to act like that," Snape looked slightly wounded. "I was merely asking you a question. I'm not doing anything, actually, but if you like I could teach you how to brew a potion. It may help you in classes," he added the last sentence hastily.

"Of course, sir," At least it was something to do. The sudden kindness was far too much for Harry to bear. He smiled.

...

Harry liked brewing with Snape. The man was not half as unpleasant when he was not sneering at him. Harry tried to be as helpful and unobtrusive as possible, replying meekly and answering fired-out questions. He had been reading some of Snape's given Potion books in case.

Snape, for once, looked a little pleased with him. The man many a time gave him approving nods and once even almost paid him a compliment. This was great progress!

Finally, when Snape saw that Harry could be trusted somewhat, he allowed the boy to stir the potion, which Harry had been dying to do.

The potion was a deep blue and he had been fascinated by the colour. Harry had loved the thick texture too.

"Oh, thank you sir!" Harry flushed with happiness. Snape froze. That was so unexpected. Was he actually _enjoying_ spending time with Potter?

When they were done, Harry looked up at Snape, as if contemplating something. Then the boy spoke: "Thank you so much, sir."

Snape wasn't sure that he had heard correctly. "Excuse me?"

"Thank you. For-for letting me brew with you. For allowing me to work with you. I didn't deserve it. Especially after I called you all those names. I'm-I'm sorry," Harry said, in a small voice.

Snape's heart wrenched. The boy was looking so unlike James Potter at the moment that it was a bit startling. "I must have told you, Potter, that I was being lenient at that time. You were ill and upset during that period so I don't blame you. However, I am specially impressed by your sudden manners."

Harry flushed. The 'sudden' manners part had disconcerted him. "Er-Thank you, sir."

"You don't need to be so _meek_ all the time, Potter," Snape looked annoyed. "Where is your Gryffindor brashness gone? You weren't like this at school,"

"I'm not brash," Harry protested, but his voice was not very loud. "I'm just trying to be polite. _You_ asked me to," he said, his voice slightly whiny.

"You start crying again and I will punish you despite your good behaviour today. Come now, it's time for dinner."

* * *

**Ending Notes:- **I'm extremely sorry it's so short but I may not be able to update for long so I wanted to post this! A really angsty chapter coming up. Like,_ really._


	7. Of Punishment and Betrayal

**A/N:- **Er, I feel rather guilty for my random outbursts. I promise not to rant from now on. This chapter is angsty as promised. It will contain harsh but brief corporal punishment. I don't want flames. If this is much too scary for you, please turn back. Any angry reviewer will be nonchalantly ignored.

**Warning for this Chapter:- **A spanking. Don't read if it offends you.

**DISCLAIMER:- **Harry Potter is Rowling's. No sueing required.

* * *

**The Light In The Darkness**

**Seven**

The friendliess lasted for a few days-things went downhill from there.

Harry had to admit, it _was_ his fault. _He_ was the one who had cheeked Snape and he was the one who had proceeded to talk back and then swear at him.

And he was the one who had thrown a plate at the man. So maybe he deserved this, but Harry was never going to admit it. He hated Snape at the moment, _hated_ him and he felt like dying on the spot.

Harry had cheeked Snape indirectly on the man's looks, and when Snape had gone all rigid, demanding to repeat what he had just said, Harry had gotten offended and they had started arguing. The argument had gotten so bad that Harry had thrown a plate at the man and then Snape had frozen, dodged, flushed deeply and grabbed him. Snape had dragged him to a sofa, despite his struggling, and had thrown him over his lap and pinned him down.

Harry had known what was happening but before he could do anything, smack after smack had been delivered down on his rump until he was shouting and then yelping and sniffling.

"I have not wanted to do this," Snape had said, from above. "I was sure that we could go through the summer without me punishing you in this way, but you have pushed my limits."

Harry squeaked in shame, a smack coming in the same spot twice. Tears spurted down his cheeks and he was moments away from begging Snape stop. He kept gasping in surprise.

"You cheeked me without provocation, and then proceeded to throw a plate at me. Have you anything to say, Potter?"

Harry stayed resolutely silent, but he couldn't stop the yelps that escaped his lips more than he couldn't stop the sun from rising everyday. And then he started sobbing, because he just couldn't take it. He hadn't _wanted_ to disappoint Snape, not really. He didn't _want_ the man to be mad at him. His relative's anger and punishment had been bad enough.

"Im sorreeey!" Harry croaked before breaking down completely and falling limp. Snape stopped the punishment at once and picked Harry up from his lap.

"Get a hold of yourself at once."

Harry's face was streaked with tears and his glasses were hanging haphazardly on his nose. "I'm sorry! Don't smack me! Please!"

Snape was startled as Harry sobbed hard. The man shook him, "I have never seen such appalling behaviour. I am heavily disappointed in you Potter. Go to your room immediately "

Harry cried harder. "Don't be angry!"

"How dare you disobey me further! Do you want more punishment?" Snape demanded.

Harry stumbled in his haste.

He felt so angry that he couldn't breathe for several seconds. Dumbledore had asked to write if anything was wrong...well he would. And right now.

XXXXX

Since Harry was already in Snape's bad books, he did not really care if what he was doing was rather disloyal. He snatched up a paper, took a quill from his trunk which was under the bed, and began to write:

**Dear Professor Dumbledore,**

**PLEASE HELP! Snape is hurting me. Please come quick.**

**Signed, Harry.**

Okay, so maybe it was _slightly_ exaggerated. But Snape deserved it. How dare he hit him! Harry hurriedly took the letter outside, rushing to a window. He found one but it wouldn't open so he looked for another. But wait-where was Hedwig?

Harry rushed to his room. Snape had kept Hedwig somewhere and he _couldn't_ ask Snape. Snape would firstLy ask him why and how could he say "To tell Dumbledore you hit me,"?

He bit his nails worriedly and suddenly remembered what there was an owl that lived somewhere near the tree. He had seen it flying past several times.

Harry rushed to a window again and cried out: "Owl! Please!" he felt stupid and he looked around the garden for the bird. Suddenly he noticed it sitting on the fence and he gestured to it. He even took out a slice of plain cake he had been saving for himself (he had nicked it from the cabinet) and waved it. The bird came flying, softly landing on the window ledge.

"Take this to Professor Dumbledore, Professor Dumbledore," Harry said, handing the letter to the owl. "He might be at Hogwarts but-"

"What's going on over here?"

Harry froze, paling so quickly that even the bird noticed it. He stood very still, not daring to answer.

"Give that to me," It was Snape and he looked suspicious and furious. A hand snatched away the letter from Harry and unfolded it ominously.

Snape read through the lines and Harry was aware, through the loud beating in his heart and the blood rushing in his ears, that he was in very big trouble. A slight crease appeared between Snape's eyes and he glared down at Harry, half-sneering, half-furious.

Harry waited for his death blow.

There was a scary pause. "_So_." Snape said. "I see now..." The man's teeth were gritted as he tore the letter forbiddingly and took out his wand. Harry flinched, nearly about to cry. Snape waved his wand and the window closed, the owl who had been watching them interestedly flying away in alarm, taking the slice of cake with it.

"So I wasn't mistaken that you couldn't be trusted," Snape took a hold of Harry's collar and held him in place as Harry had made several gestures to make a run for it.

"Let go," Harry squeaked, his temper rising somewhere in his mind.

"Sending letters about me now, are you?" Snape demanded. "Did you think Professor Dumbledore would get me? Apparantly 'save you'? Are you actually suguesting that you didn't deserve what you got? I had warned you several times before, hadn't I? Yet you pushed my boundaries and now _this_? I have never been so disappointed in you in my life."

Snape spat the last sentence and he let go of Harry's collar. Harry, despite being free, stood still, the pace of his heart quickening. He felt horrible, ashamed, and yet a small part of him told him that he shouldn't feel like that, that it wasn't entirely his fault and that Snape was just being a bully.

Harry's mouth when dry, torn from the desire of apologising sincerely and feeling guilty and telling Snape to just stuff it and get a life.

But he said neither of those things. He just stood and watched as the man shook his head and said one last thinking, sneering. "Just go to your room, Potter. Don't bother coming out. I don't want to see your face."

Harry still stood, staring up at the man pleadingly and yet also defiantly, expecting to be rebuked for not listening. But Snape just walked away, and Harry gulped consciously and looked at the torn shreds of paper on the floor. Somehow he didn't know how he felt but he knew he didn't really feel like sending a help letter. Not now anyway.

* * *

**Ending Notes:- **Guys, please, no flames. By the way, this is not child abuse, the spanking was by no means abusive and rather brief, if I might add. By the way, nope, no rants, I promise. The next chapter is even spicier! Sorry if this is short.


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